Murder in the Aisles Read Free Page B

to be precise.” She lifted her chin. “He strongly believed that staring at the stars was pure rubbish and a waste of valuable time.”
    What she was saying still didn’t register with Mark.
    â€œDon’t you see?” She stretched her arms expansively to the left then right indicating the shelves in the gallery. “Astronomy and astrophysics. ” She stared at him with wide honey-brown eyes.
    Mark wanted to laugh but he could see by the stern expression on her exquisite face that she was quite serious. “I’ll, uh, make a note of that.”
    â€œYou could at least have the decency to pretend to take me seriously.”
    â€œDr. Swift. I do this for a living. Ugly as it may be. I don’t tell you how to find books, so you don’t tell me about dead bodies. How ’bout that?” He grinned.
    Felicia drew in a sharp breath and Mark’s eyes fell on her rising breasts.
    He didn’t miss the glare she threw in his direction and wondered what was going on in that pretty head of hers. He could only imagine.
    The standoff came to an end with the arrival of the medical investigator.

Chapter Three
    Mark talked in hushed tones with the investigator, intermittently tossing a look in Felicia’s direction. The ME nodded, opened up his medical kit and put on plastic gloves to begin his preliminary examination.
    Mark seemed to pay little attention to the morbid scene. Felicia on the other hand, couldn’t tear her eyes away.
    â€œMaybe you should go back to your office until he’s done here,” Mark suggested. “Stuff like this isn’t for the faint of heart.”
    Felicia didn’t bother to look at him. “I have a graduate degree in forensic anthropology, Detective. The study of dead anything was part of my training,” she said calmly, as if she was discussing a shopping list. “I’d rather stay if you don’t mind.” She angled her head to the side for a better look.
    â€œForensic anthropology? Hmm. So, uh, how many books are in a place like this?”
    She gave him the benefit of her attention. “We have more than 130 million titles on the shelves covering every subject area in more than 400 languages. We are the repository for the House of Congress, the nation’s copyright office—in a word, the largest storehouse of books in the world.” She shot him a tight smile.
    The right corner of his mouth quirked. “Lotta books.” He chuckled.
    Felicia ignored the inane comment. It was apparent that Detective Rizzo was an asshole. Handsome and sexy in that Miami Vice, after-five look, but still an asshole.
    â€œAll done here,” the investigator announced, snapping off his plastic gloves.
    â€œWhaddya got?”
    â€œHmm. Looks like a fall, cracked his head on the marble floor. I estimate the TOD at least twelve hours ago based on body temp and the slight rigor of the extremities.” He shoved the plastic gloves into his coat pocket. “I’ll know better when I get him to the lab and open him up. I’d like a better look at that gash under the scope to make sure it wasn’t caused by something else.”
    â€œSure thing. Thanks.” He waved over one of the officers that were standing out of the way. “Tell the boys they can come in now.”
    Felicia watched in pained silence as the investigator walked off and the two assistants took pictures of the scene, then zipped the doctor up like a sandwich in a Hefty bag.
    â€œIf we have any questions, we’ll give you a call, Dr. Swift. One of the officers will stay behind to take statements, ask a few routine questions.” He started to walk off.
    â€œDetective.” Felicia reached out and touched his arm. He turned and their gazes banged against each other. His nostrils flared for a split second before he ran his tongue across his lips.
    â€œYes, Dr. Swift?”
    â€œWhat if I need to call you? I mean the precinct.